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her hands quite naturally so that Ian could assist her to her feet. She could only pray that the dim light would hide the hot color she felt in her cheeks. Alinor lowered her eyes again. |
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"When shall the wedding be?" |
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The grip on her hands tightened suddenly. "Soon." |
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There was so much eagerness in Ian's reply that Alinor raised a startled gaze to him. He had surprised himself almost as much as her, however. By the time her eyes found his face, he was looking past her, and his mouth was hard. He released her hands. |
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"It must be very soon," Ian went on. "I know the king intends to hold Christmas in England. And it would be well to assume he will come here a week or two earlier. Thus" |
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"The beginning of December or, to be safe, the end of November." Alinor put a hand to her cheek. "For how many must I make ready?" |
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"On my part about twenty noble lords. Five, at least, will have large retinues." |
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"You are asking Llewelyn?" |
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"Yes. I am not sure he will come, but I hope he does. There is some chance of it because he will want to see his son Owain, who is with me, and if John is not yet in the country, it would be safe enough." |
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"Safe enough? Is Llewelyn not married to John's daughter Joan? And surely that was only a few years ago. This Owain" |
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Ian laughed. "I have a fine crop of bastards among my squiresbut they are good boys. Owain is Llewelyn's eldest natural son. Geoffrey is William of Salisbury's boy." He nodded at her expression of satisfaction, but returned to the subject that worried him. "If Llewelyn does not come, I will have to ride into Wales. I fear he is brewing up trouble there and I must speak to him. You understand, Alinor, that if the king ceases to split himself between the French lands and these islands, his strength will be greatly increased here. |
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